The creation of a piece of live theatre requires seismic precision towards a defined vision. It’s not enough to simply have the vision, one has to be able to communicate clearly to a team of creatives charged with bringing the vision to life. If just one element of choreography, movement, set design, lighting and sound is not executed to its full potential, your intended message may not reach your audience. The opportunity to execute a vision is rarely afforded to dancers, at least not without significant constraints, and yet it is an integral part of the transition to the role of creative or artistic director.
Bangarra Dance Theatre’s newest artistic director, Frances Rings is aware of that. She begins her tenure by handing over the stage to the next generation of emerging Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander creatives through the Dance Clan artistic development program.
...each piece could not be further from Bangarra’s established stylistic identity
The show by the same name not only showcases three short 15-minute pieces from the country’s most talented emerging First Nations choreographers – Sani Townson (Kulka), Glory Tuohy-Daniell (Keeping Grounded) and Ryan Pearson (5 Minute Call) – but also features emerging production artists who have been mentored through the program. There’s composers Brendon Boney and Amy Flannery, set designer Shana O’Brien, costume designer Clair Parker, lighting designer Karen Norris and AV designer Joshua Yasserie.
It’s clear from the moment you step into Bangarra’s Studio Theatre in Walsh Bay that you are about to experience the artistic treatment and production quality you would have come to expect from any Bangarra show. And yet, each piece could not be further from Bangarra’s established stylistic identity. Instead, they are deeply rooted in the identity and vision of their feature choreographers.
In Kulka, Sani Townson pays homage to his grandfather, a symbol of his heritage and bloodline lineage as Lagaw Mabaygal (Island People). In the first moments of this three-part piece, a female dancer in a blue flowing dress is lifted by five other dancers, carried to safety like an animal sprawled on its back. In the second-part, the dancers invoke the piece’s namesake, Kulka, meaning blood. Lighting designer Karen Norris spotlights five dancers performing aggressive, linear movements. A war-like dance begins, with composition by Amy Flannery creating a heightened and sustained intensity in this electronic track. The lighting is a spectacle to be seen, as flashes of red transform the central dancer into a living animation. While innovative and captivating to begin with, the sequence drags somewhat, with the lighting overpowering the choreography, resulting in the movements that lose their meaning. In the third section, we are brought to more grounded moments, as Townson uses the flag alphabet of his ancestors to convey his cultural pride.
The electronic music is sustained as Ryan Pearson’s 5 Minute Call commences, used this time to convey euphoria. In his opening video, Pearson speaks of reliving the moment of euphoric, innocent freedom he felt dancing with his four sisters in his living room as a child. Building on this foundation, his piece also explores the euphoria he discovered later in life on the queer club dancefloor. He directs six dancers on stage to each freely express their own personal euphoric experience. A circular, neon-lit table serves as the piece's focal set piece (set design by Shana O’Brien), acting as a source of joy, slowly infecting each dancer. The first two dance solos are somewhat difficult to differentiate, but they set up the concept. The third expression marks a significant tonal shift and demonstrates Pearson’s craftsmanship as a choreographer. Using only his body, a male dancer commences a call and response with the deep thudding emanating from the lit base of the circular table. What ensues is a beautiful, undistracted, bewitching exchange (I couldn’t help but gasp). From this point, the piece finds its stride. Pearson introduces memorable choreographic lines and cannons that eventually transition into multi-coloured joy, mastered by lighting designer Karen Norris. What is profound about this artistic moment is that everyone will leave the theatre knowing exactly who Ryan Pearson is.
With the third and final piece in the showcase, it is clear that the best has been left for last. Glory Tuohy-Daniell delivers the most complete and conceptually strong piece of the evening, a breathtaking visual experience in Keeping Grounded. A long net with sporadically stitched holes hangs from the ceiling to represent the sole of a shoe. The prop serves as inspiration for a range of beautiful choreographic moments, as Tuohy-Daniell’s dancers use aerial movement to mimic the lifting and placing of a shoe on land. The lighting by Karen Norris shines in yet another performance, utilising shadows and warm tones to create the movement. The net is lifted and a dancer is caught, trying to reach the ground through each of the holes; collared shirts are slung through the net’s holes and used to support dancers to hang from the prop. It makes for both technically beautiful duo and group choreography, whilst also delivering a profound message. It’s difficult to believe that this is only a debut.
For a company that is known for its meticulous curation of its brand, movement and storytelling, Dance Clan is a wildly exciting start to the year for Bangarra, and Ring’s reign, as we see three starkly different visions come to life. A snapshot of the future of contemporary dance in Australia? I think so, and what a future it will be.
Dance Clan is performing now at the Studio Theatre at Bangarra, Walsh Bay, until February 18, 2023. Get your tickets here.
